


All I Need Is You

by KittyKrazy



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Love Confessions, M/M, Minecraft, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Indulgent, Slow Burn, Tags May Change, Temporary Character Death, Violence, comments are greatly appreciated!, kind of, personas not the people, realistic minecraft au, some things are different, they're both dorks, updates whenever i have the time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:47:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25724602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyKrazy/pseuds/KittyKrazy
Summary: George travels alone, barely managing to get by, each passing day a struggle. His loneliness envelopes him like a dark cloak, blocking out all of the light.But one day, he meets a stranger. A stranger in a white, smiley-face mask, wearing a dark green cloak. (Not that he would know, he's colorblind.)Traveling doesn't seem so bad, after that.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 91
Kudos: 567





	1. Lonely

**Author's Note:**

> oh boy oh boy. i fell down a rabbit hole recently. the dreamnotfound rabbit hole. it wasn't intentional, but i've never fallen so fast. i adore george and dream's dynamic like hell, and i was instantly hooked on their videos. after reading a million fanfics, i decided to give it a shot and write my own. still unsure if i'll end up finishing it, but i'm already excited, admittedly- even if i never expected to be writing a fanfic about minecraft, of all things.
> 
> this fanfic involves their minecraft personas, not george and clay themselves. don't ship real people, please, and don't shove the ship in their faces. they are their own people, with their own lives, outside of youtube and minecraft. 
> 
> if either george or dream express discomfort with this ship, this fanfic will immediately be taken down. this is just for fun, since i adore the dynamic. anyways, hope ya enjoy! (p.s. i'm a little rusty so i apologize if the writing is a bit eh)

Nightfall was the _worst._   
  
  
  
Just when the sun began to set behind the horizon, all hell seemed to break loose. Forests were littered with monsters, eager to attack any human that made their presence known. Sight became difficult as darkness enveloped the land, cloaking George's surroundings in inky black.   
  
A jungle biome wasn't the best place to be at the moment, but George didn't exactly have a choice. Earlier in the day, he'd injured his ankle in a fight against a zombie, making it difficult for him to travel. The jungle was the closest place he could stop, that had at least a little bit of coverage.  
  
The night was surprisingly silent, aside from the faint sound of crickets in the distance. It likely wouldn't last long, but George would savor it while he could. It wasn't long until he reached a small clearing in the middle of a group of trees. He deemed it a decent spot to set up his camp, and began unpacking his supplies, which had unfortunately dwindled in the last few days.   
  
"Shit- I already ate all my bread?" George mumbled in annoyance while rummaging through his backpack, "Great. All I've got left is a few apples... I wonder if there's any cows around here."  
  
It was never fun to fall asleep on an empty stomach, but again, he didn't have a choice. There didn't appear to be any animals nearby, and venturing out too far during the night was the death wish, so the male fought through his hunger, despite how much he hated the feeling.   
  
  
  
George carefully removed his glasses, placing them beside him on the ground, next to his sleeping bag. He stared at them fondly for a moment, though he was unsure of where exactly he'd got them, or why he decided to keep them all this time. They provided nothing- unless you count slight protection from the sun as something. But George was never stupid enough to stare at the sun anyway.  
  
  
The brown-haired male rolled over onto his back, staring sleepily up at the stars, which seemed to stretch across the sky for miles. They were beautiful. George didn't get to see many beautiful things anymore.   
  
  
There was no use thinking about it right now, when he should be resting. He'd have to continue moving in the morning. Where? He's not quite sure. A village would be nice. Somewhere he could finally relax.  
  
He could really use some company.   
  


* * *

  
The sun had only just begun rising when George awoke, disoriented and groggy. He groaned, rubbing his eyes while sitting up, annoyed with the headache that had started to pound in his head. Birds chirped happily in the trees, a sound that would usually calm him, but only annoyed him further.   
  
  
He repacked his supplies after a moment of hesitation, unprepared to continue traveling. His ankle still hurt, but sticking around likely wouldn't be a good idea. Please god, let there be a village soon.  
  
The leaves that littered the jungle floor crunched beneath George's feet, twigs snapping noisily with each step. He could only pray there weren't any monsters around, since he was being stupidly loud. "This sucks," He huffed as he vaulted over a fallen tree, wincing once his foot hit the ground, pain shooting through his ankle.   
  
Adjusting his glasses, the male continued to trudge through the jungle until he reached another clearing, slowly getting closer to a nearby desert biome. A desert would be worse to travel in, but he had to keep moving. He let out a groan as he stopped to sit on a log, tossing his backpack beside him. He used his arm to wipe sweat from his forehead, feeling uncomfortably hot and damp with sweat. Maybe he could find a river to bathe in.   
  
  
As George was rummaging through his bag in search of his apples, he was startled by a sudden rustle in the trees. Glancing up, there appeared to be nothing there, but the male stayed wary as he grasped the fruit, taking a cautious bite. He'd really prefer something different, but food was becoming harder and harder to come by, lately.  
  
Hungry and tired, George didn't want to move, even when he noticed the sun start to go down. The day had flown by, and George wasn't ready to deal with another. He whined in annoyance and exhaustion, reluctantly getting up- before immediately changing his mind and collapsing to the ground, too tired to give a shit. The Brit reached for his sleeping bag, barely having enough time to unzip it before he passed out from exhaustion, days of walking and fighting finally catching up to him.  
  
~  
  
Unbeknownst to the slumbering male, a twig snapped as someone approached, staring curiously at him with a childlike wonder. They grinned behind their mask, a circular white mask with a crudely drawn smiley face in the middle. A sword rested on their back, held securely and safely sheathed, scuffed and stained with use. They certainly didn't seem like someone to be messed with, and yet here they were, staring at the sleeping boy with a giddy form of excitement.   
  
Despite their overwhelming urge to approach George, they slowly retreated back into the shadows, waiting for the perfect chance.   
  


* * *

They kept close to George, once the male awoke. Sneaking in the shadows, climbing trees, using invisibility potions- anything to keep themself from being seen too early. They wanted to learn more about the stranger before approaching them, and they'd learned a few things already, just from listening to him talk to himself.   
  
One, he was injured, and he complained about it often. Two, he had a low pain tolerance, but that was something evident due to how often the male flinched while walking. Three, he loved cats, which they learned once they watched George try-and fail- to approach a wandering ocelot. Four, he was British, his accent pleasing and enjoyable to listen to.  
  
They couldn't help but be intrigued. They hadn't seen another human in ages, much less someone likely near their age. Maybe, just maybe, they could become traveling partners. Being lonely wouldn't have to be a problem anymore.   


* * *

  
"Ugh," George huffed while making his way up a sandy hill, finally in the desert biome, much to his dismay. The sun beat down on him ruthlessly, causing sweat to dampen his clothes and drip down his forehead. The feeling was uncomfortable and infuriating to the male, and he wished for a river more than anything. "Dammit. Please, god, I just want to find a villageee." He whined, stretching out the word 'village' as he stomped his foot, shaking sand off of the top of his shoe.  
  
He adjusted his backpack as he reached the top of the hill, his back beginning to ache from carrying it around all day. He wasn't weak, but he wasn't exactly the strongest either. He was out of practice with weapons, not seeing a reason to craft a new one after his stone axe broke, since he tended to run from monsters any chance he got. It wasn't that he _couldn't_ fight, he just didn't _like_ it. It was difficult and exhausting, something he preferred to avoid.   
  
The heat started to take it's toll on the tired male. He became disoriented and dizzy, his head spinning with each shaky step he tried to take. His breaths came out in short pants, sweat drenching his forehead.   
  
George barely managed to make it down the other side of the hill before collapsing. His backpack slipped off of his shoulder, his belongings scattering across the ground.   
  
His vision was blurred, his mind hazy, but he distantly noted the feeling of someone's arms around his waist, lifting him carefully off of the sandy ground. He heard a mumbled curse, saw a glimpse of something circular and white, before he drifted into complete unconsciousness, chocolatey brown eyes fluttering shut. 


	2. Companion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George and Dream get acquainted with one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bit of a longer one this time! this one was fun to write! ^^
> 
> i'm excited for the next chapter.

  
The stranger had been trailing close behind, distracted by a nearby sheep, when George had fallen.  
  
They'd rushed into action, quickly but carefully lifting the other off of the sandy ground, concern leaking into their words as they let out a curse. George was definitely overheated, and if they didn't act fast, he may not open his eyes again. They pressed a hand to the male's forehead, surprised by the sheer heat seeping through his skin.  
  
There was only a moment of hesitation before the stranger made up their mind, gathering George's things and zipping up his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder, before kneeling down and picking the male up bridal style. He was surprisingly light, almost worryingly so, and the stranger made a mental note to make sure he ate well ~~if~~ when he awoke.  
  
It was strange, having physical contact with another human, after so long of being alone. Sure, there were villagers, but they weren't quite the same. They couldn't fill the hole, couldn't wash away the loneliness that another human could.   
  
They distantly admired George's dorky glasses as they carried him into a forest, their iron boots thudding against the ground as they sprinted. Had to be quick, or having a companion wouldn't be an option anymore.   
  
  


* * *

  
  
George was confused when he fell unconscious, and he was even more confused when he woke up.   
  
His eyes felt glued shut as he struggled to blink, his mind hazy and foggy with sleep. He groaned quietly, his hand shifting to the side, fingers brushing against soft fabric- wait, _fabric?_  
  
He managed to push himself into a sitting position after a moment of struggling, rubbing at his eyes. Once he could see properly, he took a moment to glance around, confused- and slightly scared- by his new surroundings. Upon looking down, his theory was confirmed- he was indeed touching fabric. The fabric of a soft, clean blanket. "What...?" George couldn't help but feel uneasy. Had he been kidnapped? Taken prisoner? It surely didn't seem like a... prison, considering the wonderfully comfortable bedding and the damp, cold washrag resting on his forehead (which he'd only just now noticed, carefully taking it in his grasp,) but he could never be sure.   
  
Upon even further investigation, George found that his clothes had been changed as well, as he was now dressed in comfortable, soft clothing that _wasn't_ soaked with sweat. And while he appreciated it, he couldn't help but be slightly upset with the knowledge that somebody had undressed him without permission. Though, considering what they'd done for him so far, he doubted they'd do it with any form of ill intent.   
  
He was tempted to call out to whoever had done this, but was still unsure if he was safe or not. His head ached as he slowly pushed the covers off of his body, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Huh. He had socks on now, too. Whoever they were, they really went all out.   
  
His glasses rested beside his bed on a small, wooden nightstand, and George quickly snatched them up upon noticing. They fit perfectly on his face, obscuring his eyes. There was no real reason to wear them, his rescuer (?) had already seen his face in it's entirety, but he felt more comfortable with them on anyway.   
  
Slowly getting to his feet, his balance slightly unsteady, George took in his surroundings properly, finding the decor slightly endearing. Paintings of various environments hung on the wall, crudely drawn smiley-faces in the corner of each one. He rose an eyebrow as he stared at the small smile, wondering for a moment if it was their way of a signature.   
  
George's socks slid against the floor as he made his way to the middle of the room, spinning around slowly to take in every detail possible. It was a simple, but comfortable room, a crafting table resting in the far left corner, along with a shelf filled with books. A flower pot rested on top of the shelf, a rose blooming from the dirt. The brown-haired boy couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face whilst he gazed at it.   
  
  
"Oh, you're awake!"  
  
The voice startled George out of his thoughts, a shriek escaping his lips, causing both of them to flinch. George quickly backed away from the mysterious person, suddenly regretting not crafting another axe.   
  
"Whoa, whoa," The stranger chuckled, a sound that - George noted - was surprisingly pleasant to listen to, "Calm down. I'm not gonna hurt you, dude."  
  
George scoffed at the mention of the word 'dude', raising an eyebrow and finally taking in the stranger's appearance.   
  
Dressed in iron armor from head to toe, with a dark colored cloak (what color, George wasn't sure,) worn over the armor, the stranger stood tall. They likely would've looked menacing if it weren't for the circular mask obscuring their face, which George laughed at, suddenly. The stranger tilted their head, seemingly in confusion, before George replied.   
  
"Your mask," He snorted, pointing to his face, "The hell's up with the shitty smiley face? No offense."   
  
This only made them laugh, their shoulders shaking with the movement. "None taken." They chuckled, stepping closer to George now that they'd realized his guard was lowered. "It's, uh... I'll explain it some other time. We should probably get to know each other, oh weary traveler." They joked, carefully placing a bowl of mushroom stew on the nightstand, which George only just now noticed. His stomach growled upon seeing it, but he'd save eating for after the introductions.   
  
"I'm... George." He stated, shifting around on his feet, feeling slightly awkward. It was strange to interact with another human after so long. "What about you, Mr Smiley Face Mask?"  
  
  
They grinned from behind their mask, taking another step closer and sticking their hand out. "You can call me Dream."  
  
George didn't question the strange name, a small smile stretching across his lips as he took the stranger- Dream's- hand, noting that it was very calloused, but strangely soft and gentle at the same time. "Okay, _Dream,_ mind uh... telling me how you found me? Why you... helped me? And can I eat this?" George asked, gesturing to the bowl of mushroom soup still resting on the nightstand.   
  
"Yeah, go ahead. It's for you, after all." Dream said, watching as George took the bowl and gratefully began to dig in, using the spoon provided beside the bowl. Dream resisted the urge to sit beside him, not wanting to push it after only just meeting. "And, uh... I might've been following you? For the past week? And I just so happened to be right behind you when you passed out, so I rushed to help, and... yeah. Sorry if that's... weird." He chuckled sheepishly, lifting a hand to scratch the back of his neck.   
  
George nearly choked on his meal. "You've been _stalking_ me?!" He coughed, his glasses sliding slightly down his nose. "What the hell, man!"  
  
"No, no!" Dream held his hands up defensively, "Well... kind of. I was just curious! I never see other humans around, did you expect me to just brush off your presence?" He chuckled, before reaching behind his mask to scratch his cheek, making George wonder what kind of face was hidden behind the circular object.   
  
"Ugh, I mean, I guess not. But still, you're a creep." George huffed, though he did laugh a little under his breath. His mushroom stew was quickly finished, and George placed the now empty bowl back onto the nightstand, sending a grateful smile Dream's way. "Thanks for the food."  
  
"It's not a problem."  
  
There was a moment of slightly awkward silence before George spoke once again, brushing imaginary dust off of his pants.   
  
"So... this is your house? It's really nice, from what I can see- which is just this room, but still." George gnawed on his lip out of habit, unaware of Dream's gaze from behind his mask.   
  
"Yeah, it is. Built it myself." Dream stated proudly, raising a fist and pressing it against his chest. It made George chuckle, a light, joyous sound that Dream immediately grew attached to.   
  
"Well done then, Dream," George said, running his hands along the fabric of his shirt. "If you don't mind me asking, what'd you do with my previous clothes?"   
  
"Ah, they're hanging up to dry by the river right now. Don't worry, you'll get them back." He replied, stepping forward to take the empty bowl in his grasp, "C'mon, Georgie, why don't you let me show you around?"  
  
George snorted. _"Georgie?_ Wow, creative." Despite his words, the shorter male followed as Dream swung open the bedroom door, leading him out into a large hallway.   
  
He was surprised by the amount of paintings lining the walls, slowly descending down the stairs, trailing behind Dream. "There's a lot of paintings. Are you a painter?" He asked as they reached the bottom, following his new friend (?) into the kitchen, where he placed the bowl and spoon into a sink.   
  
"Used to be," Dream replied, wiping his hands on a green towel, "Can't find time for it anymore, but I still enjoy it- drawing, too."  
  
"Wow," George chuckled, leaning against the counter, his eyes following Dream as the blonde walked into the living area. "Didn't expect you to be good at art, considering how crudely the smile on your mask is drawn,"   
  
"Hey!" He heard Dream shout with false offense from the living area, causing him to giggle. He followed him shortly after, curious about the large house.   
  
"This place is huge." George commented, ignoring the look Dream gave him. "Quit wiggling your eyebrows, you weirdo." He snorted, running his hands over the fabric of a blanket draped over the black couch sitting in the middle of the room.  
  
"Sorry, couldn't help myself," Dream chuckled, making his way over to a shelf in the right corner of the room, his iron boots clanking noisily with each step. "There's uh, books, if you want anything to read. Not sure if any of them are actually interesting, though, but you could give them a shot." He said, gesturing to the large shelf with a grin. "While you do that- or something- I'm gonna make dinner. You got any preferences, dude?"   
  
George rose his eyebrows in surprise, stopping in his tracks. Why would he make George another meal? Why was he being so kind in the first place? "Oh, uh... some meat would be nice, haven't had that in ages." It was true, he hadn't. Cows, sheep, pigs, they'd all become scarce in the areas he'd been traveling. He hadn't had steak in weeks.   
  
Dream shot him a thumbs up before slipping into the kitchen once again, his cloak flowing behind him.   
  
Well this was surely interesting.   
  


* * *

George was about halfway through a short book when Dream shouted his name from the kitchen, startling him. "Georgeeee! Food! Come on!"  
  
He tossed the book onto the table in the middle of the room, getting to his feet, "I'm coming, jeez!" He huffed, rolling his eyes playfully at the other's impatience.   
  
  
  
Once seated, George thanked Dream for the food, excited to finally taste steak again. He hummed happily as he bit into the soft meat, surprised by how perfectly it was cooked. He mumbled a shocked compliment through a mouthful of food, causing Dream to chuckle and thank him in return, slowly eating his own steak.   
  
The two ate in a comfortable silence, both lost in their own minds. They hadn't yet spoken about what their supposed friendship meant, or if they were going to stick by one another's side, but it was obvious they both wanted company.   
  
Dream eventually spoke up, once he'd finished eating, finding nothing else to do.   
  
"So, George- what brought you out to the jungle? Where were you headed?" He asked, tapping his finger absentmindedly against the table, "You didn't... have much stuff. Your supplies are safe, by the way, but there weren't many to begin with." Dream's voice was laced with slight concern, though he tried to mask it by chuckling and making a joke about how ill prepared the shorter male was.   
  
"Oh, uh," George fumbled with his remaining steak awkwardly, occasionally nibbling to stall for time. He spoke just before Dream could make a joke, likely something similar to 'cat got your tongue?'  
  
"I was... in a village. It didn't really- work out? Everything went to shit, after a while. I had no choice but to leave. I'm not really... suited for traveling, honestly. It was really hard, the first couple of weeks." He mumbled, finishing his steak with a sigh. He avoided eye contact with the blonde sitting across from him, not wanting to see the pity on his face. (He couldn't actually _see_ his face, but he knew Dream was probably giving him a similar look beneath his mask.)  
  
Dream was indeed giving him a look from behind his mask, but it wasn't one of pity. It was one of concern, and determination.   
  
"Oh. Well..." Dream began, as he stood up, quickly cleaning off the table, "Y'know, you could always stay with me." He grinned from behind his mask, sending a wink in George's direction before remembering he couldn't actually see it. "I wouldn't mind some company. A traveling companion would be sick, especially considering how annoying it is to get supplies on my own. That shit's boring!"   
  
  
George couldn't help smiling fondly, his heart fluttering with a strange, unknown feeling. He chuckled.  
  
  
"You know what? Sure. Why the hell not."  
  


* * *

  
Dream was a handful, to say the least, and George had only known him for half a day. He teased, joked, and flirted (which George found strange, but also didn't mind, for some reason) nearly every second, and often made comments about George's height, despite the fact he was average. It was endearing, in a way, if not slightly annoying.   
  
_"Dream!!"_ George shrieked, as the taller male made yet _another_ flirtatious joke. "What the hell!"  
  
The blonde cackled, leaning over and clutching his stomach. George's offended tone was too much for him to handle.   
  
"Ugh," George groaned, "You're actually so annoying. I'm going to bed."   
  
  
He didn't realize until halfway up the stairs that he didn't actually know _where_ he was supposed to go to bed. "Uh, Dream? Where do I sleep?" He assumed he should sleep in the room he woke up in, but he could never be too sure.   
  
The taller male peeked his head out from behind a corner, "You can sleep in the room you woke up in, if you want!" _Ah, so he was right._ "...Or, you could sleep with me!" Dream wiggled his eyebrows, wheezing when George flipped him off and began stomping up the stairs. _Ugh, he was so annoying. George takes it back, he's not endearing in the slightest. Not at all._  
  
George tried to ignore the strange feeling in his chest as he slipped beneath the covers, listening to the distant sound of Dream working on something in the kitchen. He wondered what life would be like, now that he had a partner to travel with.   
  
Hopefully tomorrow would be enjoyable. 


	3. Attached

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More progression with their friendship, and some excitement later on in the chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woo!! i actually got another one done! my surgery from earlier made this a little difficult- i'm still groggy and out of it, so forgive me if there's any grammar or spelling errors! i'll fix em once i feel better. ^^ i hope you all enjoy this chapter!

  
The comforting warmth of the sunlight shining through his curtains made it difficult for George to wake up, desperately wanting to bury himself beneath the warm sheets. He hummed, tugging the soft fabric towards his face.  
  
His peace was abruptly halted by the sound of crashing and tumbling downstairs, the distant sound of Dream cursing loudly causing him to snicker into the palm of his hand, despite how tired he was. He figured he should go help, since the blonde had been so generous- it was the least he could do.   
  
Swinging his legs over the side of the bed and snatching his glasses off of the nightstand, George wondered how he'd gotten himself into this situation. It was certainly interesting so far, and he was much better off with a traveling companion, so he couldn't complain- even if the taller male made countless jokes.  
  
"Dream?" The Brit called out, the stairs creaking noisily as he made his way downstairs, "Are you okay?"  
  
Peeking his head around the corner to the kitchen, George was unsurprised to see Dream, lying on the floor, surrounded by pots and pans. A giggle erupted from his throat before he could stop it, his brown eyes alight with joy.   
  
"Oh my god. You're actually an idiot." Most would consider that an insult, but the endearment and playfulness was evident in George's tone of voice.   
  
Dream huffed, seemingly in annoyance, shoving a pot to the side. He leaned his head back against the cold wood of a cabinet, a drawn-out groan echoing throughout the kitchen. "Yeah, yeah. Help me, please?" He chuckled under his breath, slightly amused by his own idiotic actions. He'd never been too good at balancing.   
  
George nodded, his socks sliding against the hardwood flooring as he crouched down, fingers grasping the cold metal of a pot. He placed it carefully on the counter, before repeating the action with various others that lay scattered on the floor.   
  
  
The two were silent as they worked, focusing on their task- though that was quickly interrupted by a gasp escaping George's lips, when their hands suddenly brushed together, both males reaching for the same pan. It was nothing worth gasping about, Dream supposedly hadn't even noticed, but George couldn't stop the heat creeping onto his cheeks, or the strange feeling in his chest. What was this, a high-school fan-fiction?   
  
The brown-haired boy stood abruptly, brushing off his pants. "Uh- what now?" He mumbled, shifting on his feet. With a quick glance out the nearby window, George figured it was an hour or so past sunrise, so they had plenty of time to go about their day.   
  
Dream hummed in thought, standing as well. He dusted off his cloak, reaching up and adjusting his mask as he spoke, his voice soothing to listen to. "Well, there's a cave nearby, just past a river. It's pretty much unexplored, aside from the one time I went to get coal. We could go mining today, if you want. It'd be good to get supplies- you need armor. Your little twig arms aren't gonna be able to handle one single hit from a zombie." He wheezed, turning quickly on his heel so he didn't have to see the glare George was inevitably sending his way. He wiped his hands absentmindedly on a nearby towel.  
  
"Fine."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I said fine, idiot! Mining sounds decently interesting, as long as I don't get shot by a skeleton."  
  
Dream hadn't expected the male to actually agree. "Oh." A large grin quickly spread across his lips, peeking out from behind his mask. He tossed the towel to the side, iron boots clanking against the floor as he rushed into the living area, but instead of sitting down- making a stop at the bookshelf and grabbing hold of a book with a brightly colored cover.   
  
"Dream?" George called out, turning the corner at just the right time to see the bookshelf slide to the side, revealing a dark staircase into unknown territory. The Brit's jaw dropped in surprise and confusion, and he nearly missed the bright smile lighting up Dream's face. "What the hell is down there? Why do you have a secret door?"  
  
The taller male failed to reply, gesturing to the downward path with a sinister grin. George was hesitant as he approached, slightly worried by his companion's expression. He looked almost... menacing.   
  
George went down first, amazed by the eerie but enchanting lighting from the strangely colored torches. Dream trailed close behind, but not before sliding the bookshelf back into place, taking precautions.   
  
Once George reached the bottom, he stood frozen in shock.   
  
  
There must've been at least a stack of torches lining the walls, which stretched out for miles, it seemed. There were bookshelves upon bookshelves, the room looking akin to a library that was ridiculously over-sized. In the corner there was a small gathering of bookshelves, where a strange table sat in the middle, giving off a strange, unfamiliar vibe.   
  
Dream was tempted to scare the shocked boy, frighteningly so, but he refrained, instead making his way past him. His cloak flowed behind him as he stepped towards the strange table, running a gloved finger across it. "Well, what do you think?" He asked the other boy, turning his head to look over his shoulder.   
  
"What- what do I _think?_ Dream, what even _is_ this place?" George stumbled over his words, spinning slowly in a circle to take in the room fully. "And what's the weird table you're standing at?"  
  
Once again, Dream didn't reply, flicking slowly through the pages of a book resting on the table. "Mmm... nothing. I just needed to check something. Come on, follow me, Georgie."   
  
'Georgie' was getting old very quick, but the British boy couldn't deny he enjoyed having a nickname. He enjoyed having someone around again.   
  
  
Dream led him into a clearing of the room, slightly past one of the large bookshelves. A bare armor stand rested against the wall, along with a shield that looked to be on it's last limbs.   
  
Dream mumbled something under his breath as he turned to face a chest sitting beside the shield, opening it and rummaging through. George stood awkwardly to the side, unsure of what to do, or what Dream was doing.   
  
There was a moment of silence before Dream exclaimed, "Ahaaah, yes!!" pulling out a small supply of iron ingots, and a few pieces of leather. "Okay, Georgie- it's not much, but it's all I've got for now. Let me craft you some armor with what I've got left. Go sit down if you want, there's a bench over there." Dream gestured to the far side of the room, distracted with his current task.   
  
George didn't even have time to make his way to the bench before Dream spoke again, startling him out of his thoughts.   
  
"Done!"  
  
The blonde tossed a chest-plate and a pair of leather boots in his direction, causing him to yelp when the heavy chest-plate weighed his arms down. "Bloody hell, Dream! At least give me a heads up next time!" He shrieked, puffing out his cheeks in annoyance when the blonde only laughed.   
  
  
  
George collapsed slowly to the floor, struggling to slip the boots on. He grumbled, tugging on the leather so hard it nearly ripped- only stopping when a tan hand suddenly covered his own. "Whoa, whoa, you're gonna rip it! Here, lemme help," Dream sighed, a fond undertone to the sound as he slipped the boots on George's feet properly, secured and comfortable. "There you go. Comfy, Georgie?" He teased, grinning behind his mask.   
  
"Glorious." George deadpanned, lightly shoving Dream's shoulder so he would finally move away, overwhelmed by the other's close proximity.   
  
  
Eventually George had the chest-plate on as well, the light of the nearby torches illuminating the shiny material. He was about to ask a question when Dream returned from who knows where, appearing from behind a bookshelf. George hadn't even heard him leave.   
  
He was holding something wrapped up in a towel, and George gave him a suspicious glare as he approached.   
  
"Calm down," Dream wheezed, unwrapping the mystery object. "See? Nothing to be suspicious of."  
  
A shiny, newly made diamond sword was revealed, the blade glinting in the light.   
  
"Nothing to be- Dream, it's a _sword!"_ George argued, exasperated. "Whatever. Do I get to use it?"   
  
"Nope. It's my sword."  
  
"What?! Dream, I don't have any weapons!"  
  
"I know, I know," Dream chuckled under his breath (something George noticed he did quite a lot), removing the iron sword from his sheath before slipping the diamond sword inside, content when it fit perfectly. Instead of placing the iron sword somewhere else, he extended it towards George. "Here."   
  
"Oh, of course, _I_ get the used iron sword." George huffed, though he was secretly appreciative that Dream would lend him anything at all. He took the handle of the sword in his grasp, holding it with uncertainty. Dream gave him a confused look.  
  
"You're holding it all wrong- have you ever held a sword before?" Dream asked, stepping closer to his companion. "Here, let me..." Without warning, Dream circled around to George's back, wrapping his arms around the shorter boy's body. George yelped in surprise, nearly wiggling out of Dream's embrace (?).  
  
Dream reassured him and told him to calm down, his hands slowly coming to rest atop of George's. He adjusted George's grip until it was perfect, making sure his fingers rested in the correct places. Once he was satisfied, he backed away, the blush on his cheeks hidden by his white mask. "Right. Now, because you seem to have never used a sword in your entire existence, let me see your fighting stance. Swing at me." He said confidently, holding his fists up in front of him.  
  
George gaped at him. "What?! You want me to fight you!?" He shrieked, causing both of the males to flinch at the volume. "That's not even safe, you're using your fists!"   
  
He could just barely make out an eyebrow raising from behind Dream's mask.   
  
"Let's see if you're right. Swing at me, George." He repeated, tapping his boot against the ground.  
  
  
George gritted his teeth.   
  
"Fine!"  
  
There was only a moment of hesitation before the shorter male leapt forward, raising his sword above his head with a yell.  
  
Dream stepped out of the way easily, leaving George to nearly stumble into a bookshelf. "Yikes, buddy." He snorted, shaking his head. "You're really out of practice. Come here, George."  
  
George reluctantly obeys, the tip of his blade dragging across the ground. Dream moves to stand behind him again, arms wrapping around his waist, and George is distantly aware of his heart rate skyrocketing.   
  


* * *

  
  
It had ended up taking Dream half an hour to teach George a proper fighting stance, and by the time they were finally prepared to go out, the two were already annoyed with the mere idea of stepping into the outside world.   
  
"Do we have to go?" George groaned, sliding his sword into the sheath on his back. Now that he knew how to use it better, he couldn't deny his confidence was boosted.   
  
"Yes, George," Dream replied, taking the damaged shield off of the wall and handing it to the confused Brit. "Yeah, I know. It's not the best, but it'll have to do until we get some more iron. " He said, once he noticed George's expression.   
  
  
The stairs creaked beneath their weight as they ascended the stairs, Dream sliding the shelf to the side and stepping out of the way to allow George an exit. "You first." He smiled, ignoring the fact that George rolled his eyes at the gesture.   
  
  


* * *

  
The leaves resting on the ground crunched beneath Dream's boots as he walked, leading George past the river and towards the cave. He glanced up to the trees surrounding his house, a fond smile quirking at his lips.   
  
George glanced around as well, taking in the stunning view of the forest surrounding him. He hadn't actually gotten to see it yet, due to being unconscious for the trip here. Dream's house sat atop of a grassy hill, trees stretching out as far as the eye could see. A river rested peacefully at the bottom of the hill, the water glinting in the sunlight. "My clothes!" George exclaimed suddenly, gesturing to the now dry clothing hanging up beside the river. "Am I ever getting those back?"   
  
Dream nodded, barely paying attention to the other male. He was focused on a map held in his hands, trying to determine exactly where he'd spotted the cave last time.  
  
They walked for another minute or two before George caught sight of something familiar in the distance.   
  
"A village." He whispered, staring with a melancholic expression at the villagers going happily about their day.   
  
Dream rose an eyebrow, finally glancing away from his map. "Oh, yeah," He hummed, dodging a tree root sticking out of the ground, "We can go visit it soon, if you want. They've got a lot of stuff for trade."   
  
Villages brought back memories George didn't exactly want to think about, but he nodded along anyway, focusing his eyes on the path in front of him.   
  
  
Once they reached the entrance of the cave, Dream's face lit up with an almost childlike wonder. He loved mining and exploring new places, so this was an opportunity he wouldn't miss. "Come on, Georgie!" He grinned, gently grabbing hold of the shorter boy's wrist and sprinting into the darkness, ignoring George's dramatic shrieking.   
  


* * *

Dream scattered torches around the entrance and walls of the cave as he walked, humming a quiet tune. George trailed close behind him, shoulders slouched with exhaustion. He couldn't help but smile fondly at Dream's carefree attitude, the male seemingly unbothered by everything around him. George wished he could be like that, too.  
  
It wasn't long before the blonde caught sight of iron, releasing George's wrist from his grasp (George hadn't even noticed he'd been holding it the whole time) and making his way over to it.   
  
His pickaxe dug into the iron ore with an excited form of ferocity, a grin stretched across Dream's face. He continued to gather iron while occasionally whispering directions and help to George, who stood behind him in a smaller, darker part of the cave.   
  
George preferred to focus on mining coal, finding it much easier to break, though it did tend to stain his fingers. Dream was lucky, he had gloves.   
  
  
"What do you want for dinner tonight?" Dream's voice broke the silence, his words echoing through the cave. "I was thinking pork-chops and pumpkin pie."  
  
George was surprised by just how domestic this moment felt, causing him to struggle to reply, his heart fluttering in his chest. He smiled widely, slowing his movements and nearly dropping his pick. "...Well, I was thinking-"  
  
  
  
 _Ssssss.  
  
  
  
_ George's words got caught in his throat as he swiveled around, brown eyes widening in fear of the familiar, destructive sound.   
  
  
"GEORGE! Look out!" He distantly heard Dream shout with an urgent (worried?) tone, barely given time to raise his shield before the green monster lit up with a dreadful sound that bounced off of the walls and buried itself into George's mind for nights to come.   
  
Dream wasn't fast enough.  
  
The creeper exploded with an ear-shattering boom, causing Dream to snap his eyes shut and cover his face with his arms- his pickaxe clattering to the ground as debris and pointed rocks flew in every direction.   
  
  
The silence that came after was more terrifying than the initial moment itself.   
  
  
Dream collapsed to his knees, shuffling forward and yanking large pieces of debris away, searching desperately for his companion's body. He'd only just found him, he couldn't lose him yet. He refused to be alone again.   
  
"George! George, come on dude, please- say something!" He yelled, grabbing and equipping his pickaxe to carefully dispose of as much debris as possible.   
  
  
Just when he was about to give up, tears blurring his vision- though he would never admit it- he caught sight of a pale arm poking out from beneath a large piece of stone. His breath felt like it had been knocked out of his chest as he stumbled closer, shoving the stone to the side to observe the damage.   
  
George's body was bruised and scratched in many areas, but nothing looked to be broken or severe, and the knowledge was enough to finally get Dream to breathe again, a sigh escaping his lips. "Shit," He mumbled, pressing his hand against George's bruised forehead and brushing his hair out of his face, "I'm so sorry, dude."  
  
He received no response, and focused on gathering his supplies and preparing to carry the male to his home once again. It gave him a strange sense of déjà vu.  
  
"You'll be fine, I'll make sure of it." Dream spoke quietly as he gathered George's limp body into his arms, tilting his head so it rested comfortable against his chest. He looked so innocent and peaceful, despite having just been blown up. "I'm sorry, George. I should've been faster... fuckin' creeper."   
  
  
  
  
The walk home was scarily silent, not a word from either of them. Though, George couldn't have spoken if he wanted to.  
  
  
  
Dream made a promise to himself and George that day.  
  
  
He wouldn't let him get hurt again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos or feedback is appreciated, i'd like to know if more chapters are desired! :>
> 
> thank you very much for reading!


	4. Friends

The sun was high in the sky when George finally awoke, buried beneath blankets, feeling more comfortable than he had in years- despite his injuries.   
  
Speaking of injuries- "Oh, George- don't move too much, you'll agitate your wounds. Your chest got pretty messed up... I bandaged it the best I could, but you should take it easy for a day or two." Dream's voice broke the peaceful silence, as he stepped slowly into the room. George couldn't see his full expression due to his mask, but there was a glimpse of a fond smile peeking out from beneath the bottom.  
  
He'd removed his iron boots at some point previously, so his steps were quiet and reassuring as he made his way over to the bedridden male. "How are you feeling?" Dream asked, placing a bowl of mushroom stew on the nightstand beside the bed. It gave George flashbacks of when he'd first arrived.   
  
"I'm-" George coughed before he could get an entire word out, his throat sore and scratchy. He cleared his throat before trying again, ignoring the slight headache which pounded annoyingly in his head. "I'm okay, I think. Thank you, Dream."   
  
  
"It's no problem. I'm the reason you got hurt in the first place," Dream mumbled guiltily, reaching over to grasp the bowl of mushroom stew, "Here, you should eat. You need your strength back, Georgie."   
  
_Ah, Georgie. There it is. George was beginning to wonder where the real Dream had gone._  
  
"Why thank you, Dreamy-poo." George joked, and there was a moment of prolonged silence before both boys burst out laughing, George wincing every few seconds.   
  
  
George suspected the mushroom stew had been sitting out for a few minutes or so, due to how cold and... not-great it was. He didn't want to insult Dream's cooking skills, so he just blamed the lack of heat. The two sat in silence while he ate, directly in the middle of awkward silence and comfortable silence.   
  
"Um..." Dream suddenly spoke up as George was handing the empty bowl back to him, "So." He placed the bowl onto the nightstand, folding his hands in his lap. His gloves were missing, George noted, staring curiously at the taller male's hands. Scars and scrapes littered his skin, likely the result of fighting alone for so long. George couldn't help but feel bad, though it wasn't his fault.   
  
"So...?" George continued, giggling quietly. He snuggled into the warmth of the blankets, rolling over onto his side. His eyes fluttered halfway shut, a sleepy expression on his face. If Dream didn't have his mask on, George surely would've noticed the fond look in his eyes as he gazed at him. But lucky for Dream, he had a barrier to protect from awkward moments like that.   
  
"What do you wanna do?" Dream asked, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. He couldn't seem to decide what to do with his hands, frequently unfolding and refolding them, spreading them out and balling them into fists. George was so annoyed watching him do it that he considered holding them, if it'd get him to stop.   
  
"I... don't know, honestly." George replied, his voice soft and quiet. He pulled at a loose string of fabric on the blanket, gnawing gently on his bottom lip. "I just wanna relax, I think."  
  
"That's a good idea. I'm sorry I don't have more to entertain you." Dream looked guilty once again, his posture slouched and unsure.   
  
George had to physically hold himself back from scoffing and bonking Dream on the head at the comment, "Dream. I can tell you're feeling... bad, about what happened. It's not your fault, okay?"   
  
Dream still seemed unsure, even with the reassurance. George couldn't see much of his face from behind his mask, but he could tell the male was biting his lip.   
  
_"Dream._ Really. I promise- and besides, I know how you can make it up to me." George grinned when that instantly got Dream's attention.   
  
"How?"  
  
George pretended to hum in thought, tapping his pointer finger against his chin.  
  
"Spoil me, all day. I am a prince and you are my... uhm. Whoever does- stuff for a prince." George stumbled over his words, laughing at his own mistake. Dream seemed to find it funny as well, judging by how hard he was wheezing.   
  
"Wow- okay." Dream wheezed out, clutching his stomach, "Of c-course, your majesty- ha-HA!"  
  
George began to wheeze as well- he couldn't help it, the blond's laughter was contagious. It was the kind of laughter that always made you smile in return, the kind of laughter that made your heart feel... warm.   
  
"Alright, alright, shut up. God." George chuckled, running a hand through his messy brown hair. "Bring me a glass of water, peasant! I thirst for the... clear liquid!"  
  
 _"Peasant??_ **_CLEAR LIQUID_** _?"  
  
_

* * *

  
  
Dream did end up getting him a glass of water, but it took a while for him to regain his breath. George didn't even know it was possible for someone to laugh so hard. He'd started getting worried when the taller male fell out of his chair, rolling around on the floor like a dog.   
  
A few hours had passed since then, the two making casual conversation, while Dream made the occasional trip to retrieve something George would request. Which was usually a snack, but can you blame him? Getting exploded makes you hungry.   
  
George sat bundled up on the couch, blankets draped over his shoulders. A storm was slowly approaching, George could hear the thunder rumbling in the distance. He'd never liked storms, but at least he had a roof over his head, and a friend to pass the time with.  
  
...Friend. Was Dream his friend? He'd only met him a day or two ago, but both boys had bonded surprisingly fast. George already couldn't imagine a comfortable life without Dream's ridiculous comments.   
  
Yeah. They were friends.   
  
  
As Dream returned from the kitchen, George glanced out the window, watching the dark clouds roll in. He couldn't ignore the buzz of anxiety in his stomach at the sight of them, memories of his old village getting extremely damaged flashing through his mind. Villagers' roofs had been torn off by the sheer power of the wind, animals thrown into fences, injured and weakened by the time it had passed.   
  
George was shaken from his thoughts when a hand tapped his shoulder. "Georgie? Ya there, bud? Everything okay?" Dream asked, concerned, sitting down beside the shivering boy. George pulled the blankets tighter around his body before replying, taking the mug of hot chocolate Dream was handing him with a grateful smile.   
  
"I'm fine, don't worry. Just noticed how... bad the storm's getting." He mumbled, distracting himself with the comforting taste of hot chocolate, the warmth of the drink soothing his worries, if only momentarily.   
  
"Oh," Dream hummed, scooting slightly closer to George so he could prop his feet up on the table in front of them, "It's nothing to worry about. It'll pass quickly, we'll be fine. Trust me, I've dealt with enough of them to know."  
  
George focused on his friend's company as opposed to the storm, a small smile stretching across his lips. "Okay."  
  
  
The two talked until the storm had passed and their eyes were burning with exhaustion. Despite neither wanting to get up from the warmth of the couch, they reluctantly did so, bidding one another goodnight and making their way to their separate rooms. Dream had insisted he'd leave his door unlocked in case George needed anything, and the brown-haired boy couldn't deny the warmth in his chest as he listened to those words. It'd been so long since he'd had a real _friend,_ someone who actually _cared,_ who stuck around.  
  
  
George pulled his blankets up to his chin, nuzzling his face into the soft fabric. Though he'd been blown up by a Creeper only a day previous, George was feeling more relaxed and content than he had in months. Something about spending the night with a new friend, talking happily for hours without any sense of anxiety or worry of messing up- it made him want to jump up and down and do a stupid little dance.   
  
Needless to say, his chest didn't hurt so much anymore. At least not in the same way.   
  
As he drifted off to sleep, he couldn't help but wonder where he'd be right now, if Dream hadn't found him on that night in the Jungle. It was- admittedly- creepy, knowing he'd watched him sleep, but if he hadn't been around when George had collapsed...  
  
He didn't want to think about it. For now, he'd just thank Dream every chance he got, and cherish every moment he had to spend with a new friend. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been struggling a bit with writers block lately, sorry it's a short chapter! i've got another in the works but it may be slow, inspiration decided to take a sick leave.


	5. Bonding

"...Dream, are you serious?"  
  
  
It was probably about seven in the morning, and here Dream was, standing in front of George- fully dressed and ready to go. George, however, was staring at the blond with an exasperated expression, his eyelids heavy with exhaustion.   
  
"Aren't you literally the one who told me to rest before we go traveling places?" George rose an eyebrow, slowly sitting up in his bed. As he grabbed his glasses off of the nightstand, he took in Dream's appearance, which was slightly different than usual.   
  
The taller male wore a green flannel over a simple black t-shirt, along with a pair of tight black jeans. His mask still rested on his face, obscuring his features. He didn't have his sword with him, only a simple dagger strapped to his hip, so George figured wherever they were headed, it must be safe.   
  
  
"Yes, Georgie, I'm serious. Don't look so spooked, we're only headed down to the village, nothing dangerous there." He paused for a moment, tapping his chin with his pointer finger. "At least, I don't think so."   
  
George couldn't have looked more unimpressed if he'd tried.   
  
"Well, you've got _about..._ ten minutes before we have to head out! Start getting ready, or I'll leave you!" With that, Dream exited the room with a skip in his step, humming a quiet tune.   
  
  
"Wonder what he's so happy about," George mumbled to himself, throwing the covers to the side and stretching his arms above his head, his mouth opening in a yawn. "I'm actually so tired, oh my god. I hate Dream. Why does he do this to me?" The brown-haired boy huffed, regretfully getting out of bed and shuffling to his door.   
  


* * *

  
Eleven minutes later- one minute past Dream's set time- George was fully dressed and ready to leave. Unlike Dream, he wore his usual outfit, comfortable in the clothes he was most used to. He didn't want to stick out, anyway.   
  
"Are you ready to go?" Dream asked as George stepped out of his room, rubbing at his eyes sleepily.   
  
"Yes, but I'll have you know that if you ever wake me up this early again, I will not hesitate to throw hands." George grumbled, though there was secretly a smile hidden behind his hand as he scratched his cheek.   
  
Dream chuckled in response, the sound music to George's ears. "Okay, okay, got it, Georgie. You need your beauty sleep." The blond winked, before turning on his heel and rushing down the stairs. "Come on, before we miss out on all the good trades!"   
  
George couldn't help but smile at his companion's enthusiasm, slowly trailing behind him and out the door.   
  


* * *

  
The walk down to the village was comfortable and calm, a slight breeze reassuring the two that they wouldn't burn to death beneath the sun's ruthless rays. The shade of the surrounding trees in the forest provided even more of an escape from the heat, but sadly Dream insisted they stick to the path. The forest was 'dangerous', he'd said. Despite wishing to cool off, he believed and trusted Dream's words.   
  
A groan escaped George's lips as they continued to march down the path, lifting an arm to wipe sweat off of his forehead. He couldn't help but feel similar to when he was in that desert, despite being in a completely different biome. _"Dream,_ I'm actually going to die. I'm melting. Why is it so goddamn _hot?"  
  
  
_ The male beside him let out a wheeze at his complaint, brushing a tan hand over his forehead to check for sweat. "You're not even sweating that much, you big baby. Calm down."   
  
George didn't have an answer as to why his cheeks heated up once Dream's hand brushed against his forehead, and quite frankly, he wasn't sure if he wanted one.   
  
"That's because I wiped it off already, you idiot! Why don't you feel my armpit instead, huh!?"   
  
The two playfully bickered back and forth until they finally reached the village, the sight of houses and crops nearly bringing tears of relief to George's eyes.   
  
  
"Oh my _god._ Finally!" George exclaimed with excitement, rushing towards the lively village with a grin. He was yanked to a stop before he could get very far, glaring in annoyance at whoever had stopped him. Dream, of course.   
  
"Whoa there, slow down Georgie. No need to rush, let's take it slow."   
  
Reluctantly, George complied, trailing behind Dream as they approached a gathering of villagers.   
  
  
While Dream traded and conversed with the villagers, George took his time looking around the village, surprised by how lively and comforting it was. There were several farms and animal pens, so they definitely weren't going to run out of food anytime soon, which George was thankful for.   
  
A butterfly fluttered by George's head, and the male couldn't help but smile at it's beauty. The nature surrounding him was lively and peaceful, a vast difference compared to nightfall.   
  
He wandered past a gathering of houses until he came across an iron golem, resting nearby a fountain. It was beaten and damaged, and George couldn't help but feel bad for it. He sent a sympathetic glance it's way before shuffling towards the fountain and sitting on the edge. He dipped his hand into the cool water, a small smile quirking at his lips as the water soaked his skin.   
  
The feeling of something smooth against his fingers caused him to raise an eyebrow and glance down, moving his hand to the side to reveal a golden nugget sitting at the bottom of the fountain. It glimmered in the sunlight, and George couldn't help the urge to grab it.   
  
As he took it out of the fountain, shaking it dry, he glanced around to check if any villagers had seen. Though he doubted they'd mind, he didn't want to risk it.   
  
  
The brown-haired boy shoved the golden nugget into his pocket and began walking back to the center of the village, chocolatey brown eyes scanning the area for any sight of a white mask and a green shirt. "Dream?" He called out, cupping his hands to his face. A few villagers shot him strange looks, but he ignored them in favor of continuing to search. "Dream? Helloooo?"  
  
"George! Over here! You gotta see this!"   
  
He turned to see Dream standing beneath a tree in the distance, a little ways past the village, on a small hill. He had his arm outstretched to the sky, and he was waving excitedly at the British boy. Why, George wasn't sure, but it couldn't hurt to find out.   
  
"Hold on, I'm coming!" George shouted back, before breaking into a sprint up the hill, distantly noting that he'd need to replace his shoes soon.   
  
  
Once he arrived at the top of the hill, he noticed how beautiful the view was from here. The sun was just beginning to set behind the horizon, and the land surrounding him was bathed in a warm orange glow.   
  
"So, what did you need me for-"  
  
He paused abruptly once he caught sight of his friend, who was crouched down beside a... dog? It's fur was light grey and fluffy, if slightly dirtied with mud and grime, likely a cause of living by itself. It was a tamed dog- judging by the pink collar on it's neck- but there was no owner in sight. Poor thing.   
  
Despite how admittedly intrigued George was by the dog, his eyes remained focused on something else, instead.   
  
Dream looked beautiful. The light of the sunset illuminated his mask, and George wished he could remove it to see how it would illuminate his _real_ face. He felt his cheeks heat up as he stared in awe, a faint breeze tousling his and Dream's hair.   
  
Barely managing to look away in time, George coughed awkwardly into his hand, crouching down beside his companion. "Okay, so....a dog. What about it?" He asked, raising an eyebrow and cautiously outstretching a hand towards the canine. It's tail flopped happily against the ground as George's hand made contact with it's head, his pale fingers brushing through it's fur. He couldn't help but let out an "Aww..." at the sight, a smile quirking at his lips.   
  
Unbeknownst to him, Dream was giving him the same exact love-struck look George was giving him a moment prior. He cleared his throat before speaking, getting to his feet and brushing off his pants. "Well... she's all alone out here, we can't just leave her. Nightfall will be here soon, I'd feel awful leaving her like this. She's obviously starving, too, the poor thing looks like a skeleton." Dream pouted from behind his mask at the sad sight, concern for the vulnerable animal worming it's way into his heart.   
  
George couldn't help but agree. It really _did_ look awful, and if they could help it, George would definitely sleep a lot better tonight. "Okay, sure. But where is it going to sleep? Are we keeping it permanently?"  
  
"It depends. If we get attached, we'll have no choice but to keep her," Dream chuckled, "and she can sleep in my room, I don't mind. I sleep with a pillow anyway, it'd be even better with an actual source of heat."   
  
Choosing not to comment on the fact that Dream cuddled a pillow while sleeping, George nodded in agreement, getting to his feet and standing beside Dream as the sun finally disappeared behind the horizon. Nightfall was here, and if they didn't hurry, they could be in some deep shit.   
  
"We should get going," Dream mumbled while grasping his dagger, keeping it at the ready, just in case. "We don't wanna get stuck out here at nightfall. Let's head home."  
  
Once George agreed, the two slowly led the dog towards home using small pieces of mutton, George cooing happily to the animal every few minutes. It brought a smile to Dream's face.   
  
  
They were halfway out of the village when George abruptly stopped, muttering a small "oh!" under his breath. Dream turned around, raising an eyebrow in confusion as he watched George shove his hand in his pocket and rummage around for something. "What are you doing?"   
  
George kept silent until he finally pulled something out of his pocket, keeping it hidden in his hand. "Uh, well..." He stepped forward, holding his hand out and prompting for Dream to do the same so he could hand the item to him.   
  
George's hand opened and out fell the shiny golden nugget, lying cold against the palm of Dream's hand. He rose an eyebrow, eyeing the shiny gift.   
  
"I know it's not much, and it's... a weird gift- but it's shiny, I guess? I just... wanted to give you something, for all you've done for me." George's voice was soft, barely audible over the distant chatter of villagers. His cheeks were tinted pink, a small smile spread out across his face. "Thank you, Dream."   
  
Dream let out a quiet wheeze, closing his fist around the golden nugget and placing it carefully in his pocket. "Thank you, Georgie, and you're welcome. Now, you know how you can _really_ thank me?" He chuckled, turning on his heel and continuing down the path. "Make dinner tonight."   
  
George scoffed humorously, trailing behind the taller male with a joyous smile still painted on his face. "Uh-huh, sure, Dreamy-"  
  
  
The two were interrupted by a sudden commotion coming from the village, causing them to spin around in confusion just as a horn began to sound.   
  
"What is that?" George asked, concerned by the panicked noises echoing from the village. The horn sounded slightly familiar to George, though he couldn't place why. It gave him a sense of... impending dread.   
  
Apparently Dream didn't feel too content either, judging by the frown visible from behind his mask. His hand tightened around his dagger, a determined glint in his eye, though George couldn't see it.   
  
"A raid."  
  
Grey-skinned beings were visibly swarming the small village, aiming loaded crossbows at innocent villagers, frightening the village cats and challenging the iron golems. The horn sounded again as they began to attack, blood being splattered across the grass as an arrow was fired directly into a villager's chest.  
  
  
  
George paled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i apologize for the short and slightly jumbled chapter! writer's block has been a pain in my ass lately, but i'm trying my best. please, let me know in the comments if more chapters are desired! comments mean a lot to writers and usually make my day, i love seeing what people think. 
> 
> what do you think they should name the dog, if they keep her? 👀


	6. Battle

George knew that sound.  
  
  
It brought back memories, horrible memories that would likely keep him up at night. His village had been raided countless times, and the only reason he'd never perished was because they had dedicated, loyal iron golems protecting the village with all they could.   
  
Of course, they didn't last forever.   
  
  
"George?"   
  
  
He was shaken from his panicked thoughts by Dream's voice, which was laced with concern.   
  
  
"Are you okay?" He asked, placing a gentle hand on George's shoulder. "They'll be fine, we'll save them. But we gotta hurry, okay? Do you wanna stay back?"  
  
George took a deep, shaky breath, ignoring the trembling of his hands, and shook his head. "No. I'm fine, and I want to help. Do you have any spare weapons?"  
  
"No," Dream replied, readying his dagger, "But there's probably something in the blacksmith's chest. Go steal it, they won't care if we save their lives."   
  
George nodded, but before he could sprint towards the blacksmith, Dream's hand caught his shoulder.   
  
"Be careful, okay? Yell if you need me, I'll be there in a flash." Dream promised, absentmindedly rubbing a circle into George's shoulder with his thumb.   
  
The concern, the _care_ in Dream's voice made George's heart melt. He forced a determined grin on his face, nodding enthusiastically. "Okay. You too."  
  
  
The two parted after a brief moment of eye contact, Dream rushing to assist a damaged iron golem while George hurried towards the blacksmith, hoping to get there before any enemies.   
  
  
He barely managed to dodge an arrow as he stumbled inside the small building, collapsing to his knees and rummaging through the chest. His heart pounded with anxiety and anticipation, sweat dripping down the side of his face.   
  
"Yes!" He exclaimed with excitement as he pulled out an iron sword, swinging it once or twice for practice before rushing out the door, the various other items left unwanted in the chest.   
  
  
Everywhere he looked, it was chaos.   
  
Pillagers firing arrows left and right, Ravagers charging iron golems, ramming into houses. The sight brought tears to George's eyes- no one deserved to go through this. He grit his teeth and ran towards a pillager with it's back turned, taking his chance to slice his blade across it's body. Blood coated his sword as the pillager disappeared in a puff of smoke, causing George to cough.   
  
  
  
A _thwip_ sound startled George and he spun around to see a crossbow aimed directly at his face, barely managing to duck before an arrow was fired. He shrieked, stumbling to the side. His heart raced with adrenaline as he lunged forward, taking his chance while the Pillager was reloading and plunging his sword through it's chest.   
  
It flashed red before disappearing, and George felt a strange sense of pride. He was actually defending himself for once. He couldn't deny he liked the feeling of being powerful, independent. No longer helpless.   
  
Though, he wouldn't be here if it weren't for Dream's help. He'd need to thank him.   
  
Speaking of Dream, where was he?  
  
George's eyes scanned the chaos for any sight of a white mask, trying to ignore the crimson coloring the grass, splattered on buildings. He could dwell and lose sleep over that later, for now, he needed to find Dream.   
  
  
He called out for his friend among the chaos, his hand tightening around the handle of his sword. He could be attacked at any moment, and to say he was on edge was an understatement.   
  
"Dream! Dream? Please, where are you?" While running, George took out as many Pillagers as possible, his blade stained red with victory. "Dream?"  
  
He began to get frantic. It'd been at least ten minutes of fighting, and George hadn't caught a glimpse of the other male since they'd split up. What if he'd been hurt? What if he got lost? What if he got blown up by a Creeper, or shot by a Skeleton, or-  
  
"Gah-!" George cried out in alarm as an arrow whizzed past his face, narrowly missing his forehead. He swiveled around to face a Pillager, who stared at him with murderous intent. He really chose a bad day to not wear armor.   
  
Disoriented, George was left vulnerable for a moment, conveniently the exact moment the Pillager reloaded their crossbow. He felt himself freeze in fear as it was aimed right between his eyes, completely convinced these were going to be his last moments.   
  
Those worries were quickly washed away when he heard a snarl from beside him, and in a flash the Pillager was collapsing to the ground, it's arm in a dog's mouth. He blinked in shock as the once vulnerable, sweet dog went from cute and fluffy, to cute and fluffy but also terrifying and pissed the fuck off. She shook her head wildly, her teeth digging into the Pillager's flesh. It began to reach for it's crossbow, and George finally snapped out of his haze, taking action.  
  
With the help from his new fluffy companion, George plunged his blade through the Pillager's chest, heaving heavy breaths and collapsing to his knees. The dog wandered up to him, nudging his arm with her nose, her eyes pleading. He couldn't help but smile, lifting a tired arm to pat her head, letting out a giggle when her tail began thumping against the ground. "Where've you been, little baby?" He cooed, scratching gently behind her ear.   
  
As much as he would've liked to stay and pet her, he needed to find Dream. He forced himself to his feet, ignoring the pain that shot through his legs as he did so. "Come on, follow me- we need to find Dream." He told her, as if she understood a single word he was saying. Though, it seemed like she did, since she instantly obeyed, trailing close behind.   
  
  
The middle of the village was chaotic, but not nearly as much as it was a few minutes ago. Dream really must've been working hard.  
  
  
"George!"  
  
The familiar voice startled George from his thoughts, the British boy spinning around to smile at his masked companion. His clothing was torn and ruined from fighting, but George still found him as handsome as always.   
  
_Wait, what?_  
  
Before he could dwell on his strange thought, Dream placed a hand on his shoulder, a fond smile visible on his face from the area his mask failed to cover. "Are you good? You're not hurt, right? Do you need food?" Dream asked, tilting his head slightly in question. George couldn't hold back a giggle at how silly he looked.   
  
"I'm fine, Dream," George responded as he kneeled down to pat the dog on the head, who'd been sitting patiently by his side. "...Do you think the iron golems can take the rest of the Pillagers? I really don't wanna fight anymore," He admitted. His body was sore and exhausted, and he'd taken quite a few hits, even if he wouldn't admit it to his friend.   
  
Dream hummed in consideration, glancing around at what was remaining of the raid. His dagger was still at the ready, dripping with the blood of slain enemies. Just how many had Dream taken out?  
  
"I don't know. If you can't keep fighting, I can handle the rest of them. There's not many. I promise I don't mind." Dream said, and George could tell just by the tone of his voice that he was being honest. The gesture made his cheeks flush, though he wasn't sure why. His friend was just offering to help out, why was he... feeling this?  
  
George felt bad for accepting the offer, not wanting Dream to have to do all of the work, but his legs refused to carry his weight any longer. He collapsed beneath a tree while he waited for Dream to rid of the rest, dozing off while running his fingers through the dog's fur. He should probably give her a name, soon. 'Dog' wouldn't work in the long run.   
  
  
Dream looked exhausted as well once he finally returned, his shoulders slumped and his walking slow. George felt concern gnaw at his heart, and he rushed to help Dream to a more comfortable resting spot.  
  
The two sat by the tree for a few minutes, catching their breath and regaining their energy while making casual conversation and sharing food. The villagers had thanked the two profusely, offering them food and supplies for their hard work. They accepted, happily consuming the provided apples and bread, while Dream stashed the iron and lapis away in his inventory.   
  
  
"The stars are really pretty, don't you think?" Dream asked, abruptly breaking the silence. George finished off his loaf of bread and glanced over to his friend, raising an eyebrow at the sudden question.   
  
George turned his attention to the stars, admiring how brightly they shined in the night sky. "Yeah. They are."   
  
They fell into a comfortable silence after that, stargazing and watching the villagers celebrate and prepare for bed from afar. The dog rested comfortably between them, curled up into a fluffy ball of fur. George was already attached to the fluffy canine.   
  
  
A zombie getting too close for comfort was what finally shook the two from their relaxed mindsets, quickly moving from their spot and agreeing that they should head home. The dog followed without any need for bribery this time, her tail happily wagging as she padded alongside the two boys.   
  
"You should've seen it, it was fucking _crazy,_ George!" Dream rambled on about how powerful one of the Ravagers had been, throwing his hands in the air as he gestured wildly. George giggled, listening along with a joyous smile on his face.   
  
"I wish I had," George grinned, bumping his shoulder against Dream's as they approached the path home, satisfied with the day. Though they'd had to deal with a raid, they got free food and supplies, as well as a new dog, so it was a win in George's opinion.   
  
  
George's breath got caught in his throat when he felt Dream's hand brush against his own, glancing down to see that the other male was doing so on purpose. He looked up with a confused expression, only to find Dream looking away with a slightly visible blush peeking out from behind his mask. He struggled to find words as the taller male cautiously intertwined their fingers, his own face heating up. He couldn't deny how his heart sped up from a single touch, but this was enough to render him speechless.   
  
"You're... okay with this, right?" Dream asked quietly, taking a shy peek at George's expression, scanning for any signs of discomfort. "I can let go, if you want. I don't know why I even did this, actually, I'll-"  
  
"No, it's fine-"

"But-"  
  
"Dream, really, it's-"  
  
  
  
 _Thwip.  
  
  
  
  
_ An arrow embedded itself in his shoulder, and all George could think to himself as he collapsed to his knees, crying out in pain, was _'Goddammit, not again.'  
  
_ The dog stood in front of him protectively, snarling as Dream stared in shock, still processing what had just happened.   
  
George's whimper snapped him out of his haze, and his shoulders went tense as he scowled, his gaze landing on a skeleton hidden behind a tree.   
  
"You _bastard."_ He growled under his breath, and George barely had a moment to blink before Dream was borrowing George's sword and rushing towards the skeleton, his mask sliding slightly to the side to reveal an expression George could only describe as 'pure rage.'  
  
The skeleton had no time to reload before Dream reached it, raising the sword high before bringing it down upon the skeleton's skull with an angered yell, the sound of the impact echoing throughout the forest. It disappeared in a puff of smoke instantly, and George watched in shock as Dream heaved heavy breaths, his shoulders trembling with each inhale.   
  
"...Dream?" George whispered, wincing when the dog nudged his arm with a whine, her ears folded back in concern.   
  
It was only a whisper, but it alarmed Dream as if he'd screamed the words instead, the taller male spinning around to face him with a gasp. "George!" He rushed over, nearly tripping over a branch, and kneeled beside the British male, examining the damage done to his shoulder. "Shit. I'm gonna need to get this arrow out," Dream whispered, but paused once he saw the alarmed, frightened look on George's face, "It's okay, I promise. I'll make it as quick as possible. I'll make sure you're okay."   
  
And despite being in horrible pain, George couldn't help but wholeheartedly believe him. He nodded with a whimper, and distracted himself by petting the dog, who'd since rested her head on his leg, whining quietly.   
  
  
  
  
It was a long, drawn-out process made difficult due to their limited supplies, but George made it through with minimal panic. Each time he began to panic, Dream would reassure and comfort him, even going so far as to stroke his hair and hum to him while cleaning the wound. George considered getting injured again, just so Dream would repeat the action.   
  
"You're sure it's not too painful? Do you need more food?" Dream asked for the seventh time, letting George lean on him as they continued their walk home.   
  
"I told you, I'm _fine,_ Dream." George rolled his eyes at his friend's concern, though he secretly appreciated it more than he could express. Dream had his arm wrapped around his waist to support him as they walked, and George soaked up the physical touch like a dry sponge. "But... thank you for asking."  
  
Dream smiled at him. "You're welcome, Georgie. It's what friends do."  
  
...Yeah. Friends.   
  
That's all they were. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm quite proud of this chapter! ^^ but whoops, bit of angst again. 
> 
> writing fight scenes is... hellish. why is it so hard?? help?????? i hope i did okay.
> 
> george is pininggggggg. 
> 
> still haven't decided on a name for the dog yet. uh oh. i better hurry up, they're gonna name her in the next chapter. 
> 
> thank you all for the support and comments, it means a lot to me! please let me know if you're continuing to enjoy this fanfic, or if you have any ideas ^^ <33 i appreciate all feedback


	7. Moonlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am SO sorry this took so long, i got absolutely fucked over by writer's block, and a lot of other stuff. ;;  
> i apologize for how jumbled and abruptly it cuts off at the end, it's 11 pm and my schedule is fucked, i am Tired. i hope the chapter is at least decent enough to hold you over until i can complete the next!! <33

  
  
Even with the sun shining directly in his face, George slept soundly beneath his blankets, the warmth of the morning sun-rays caressing his body. He mumbled in his sleep, occasionally rolling over and switching positions only to fall back asleep in a millisecond.   
  
He likely would've slept several more hours if it weren't for his door suddenly being swung open, and the sound of paws padding rapidly against the floor, getting closer and closer-  
  
"Gah!" George shrieked as he felt the bed dip with a new weight, quickly realizing it was the Dog™, who was happily licking his cheek. Her tail wagged so quickly it created a breeze, and George giggled while running a hand through her thick fur. A quick glance to the doorway revealed Dream, who stood in his familiar attire, his classic green cloak and black underclothes.   
  
"Morning, sunshine." Dream chuckled, giving George a wave as he sleepily rubbed his eyes.  
  
George rolled his eyes, letting out a yawn and snatching his glasses off of the nightstand while petting the Dog with his left hand. "Yeah, yeah, good morning. What's planned for today? Mining? Hunting?" George asked as he slid out of bed, already wide awake thanks to the Dog's affections- he groaned as he wiped her drool off of his cheek.  
  
Dream shook his head, the small bit of blond hair visible shaking with the movement. "No. I was thinking we'd stay home for today, Georgie. After all, we've gotta figure out a name for this fluffy little pup," Dream cooed, stepping forward to pat her on the head, _"And_ you're still injured, in case you've forgotten."  
  
George hadn't forgotten. His shoulder had been aching all night long, and each time he rolled onto his side, pain would shoot through his body and wake him up in a flash. But he figured Dream didn't need to know that, since he'd likely just worry.  
  
"I didn't forget, but thanks," He sighed, carefully stretching his arms above his head. "I'm fine with staying home, as long as we still get to do something interesting."  
  
Dream nodded, leaning against the door-frame. George waited for him to say something, but the male just stared- had he zoned out? George tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. "Uh, earth to Dream?"  
  
Quickly, the taller male snapped out of it, lifting his mask ever so slightly to rub at his eyes. George wondered what color they were. "Ah- yeah, yeah. Sorry. Let's go find something to do."  
  
  
Confused, George nodded, following Dream out of the room and into the hallway, Dog trailing close behind. He grinned at the sight of her tail wagging rapidly, reaching a hand out to pat her head. She barked quietly in appreciation, licking George's fingers, the action causing George to giggle. Hopefully they'd figure out a name for her soon.  
  
  
Sunlight drifted through the windows of the hallway, illuminating the corridor in a heavenly glow as the pair made their way down the stairs, the steps creaking noisily with each movement. George yawned into his hand, blinking his eyes tiredly. He would've preferred to sleep for much longer, but an early start to the day wasn't the _worst_ thing.  
  
  
"So," Dream spoke, leaning his elbow against the side of the table, "What do you want for breakfast, Georgie? I already fed the dog, she was really hungry earlier."  
  
George hummed in thought, taking a seat at the table. "...Baked potatoes, maybe? I haven't had those in... wait- I don't think I've _ever_ had them." George was surprised by the information- he'd thought that surely he'd eaten everything there was to eat by now.   
  
Dream let out a low chuckle at George's surprised expression, before turning swiftly on his heel and rummaging through a nearby chest. George watched the taller male work, a fond smile quirking at his lips.  
  
How had he grown so attached to him so quickly? They'd become friends in the blink of an eye, and the Brit was already certain he'd be devastated if something happened to the other.  
  
Sighing, George pushed the thoughts to the corner of his mind, adjusting his glasses and carrying on with his day. He could dwell on the slightly infuriating thoughts later. The thoughts about Dream's ridiculously soothing voice, how warm and comforting his hands were, how soft his hair looked-  
  
 _Stop it._  
  
A groan escaped George's lips, and he quickly excused himself, prompting a curious eyebrow raise from Dream. "Are you alright?" The blond asked, concern evident in his tone. George nodded in response, sending a reassuring smile his way, before swiftly making his way out the front door. "Be back in a second."   
  
  
  
A cool, comforting breeze tousled George's hair as he stepped outside, breathing a sigh of relief. He leaned up against the side of the house, staring up at the clouds with furrowed brows and conflict in his heart. Dog™ followed close behind, having slipped through the door while George was leaving. She whined curiously, sitting beside George as he slid to the ground, crossing his legs.  
  
"Hello," He cooed, unable to resist her puppy dog eyes, lifting a hand to pat her on the head. She wagged her tail happily, curling up and resting her head in George's lap. The male smiled, leaning his head against the house as he stared up at the trees, watching birds and bugs fly past, unbothered by human feelings and struggles. George wished he could escape his thoughts that easily- fly away, leave them behind without a second glance.   
  
A small, peaceful ladybug buzzed by, landing on a nearby flower. George watched curiously as it fluttered it's wings, crawling around. The dots scattered on it's wings reminded George of the crudely drawn eyes on Dream's mask, and he chuckled as he remembered the first time he'd seen it. He'd been so confused, for various reasons.  
  
What a strange person Dream was. The male seemed to constantly irritate George, while somehow being the most pleasant person George had ever been around at the same time. George felt at peace around the blond, felt over the moon when he'd laugh in response to one of George's remarks, or loop an arm over his shoulder. Why? Why did he feel so happy around him, why did he feel like he'd known him for _years,_ as opposed to the short amount of time they'd truly known one another?  
  
George couldn't wrap his head around it. Perhaps it was something akin to destiny, or past lives? Maybe they'd known one another in a different life, maybe they'd been the best of friends.   
  
Maybe they'd been something _more._  
  
  
He shook his head wildly at the thought, his cheeks flushed with heat. "Ugh," He ran a hand through his messy brown hair, yanking his glasses down over his eyes to conceal his blush as much as possible. He should probably head inside- he'd kept Dream waiting long enough.   
  
Said male suddenly peeked out from behind the front door, tilting his head curiously. "Why're you on the ground? You okay, George? Is your shoulder hurting?" He asked, and the concerned tone to his voice made George want to both punch him and kiss him simultaneously, but he wouldn't admit to the latter.  
  
He quickly got to his feet, brushing dirt off of his pants, "Yeah, I'm fine- sorry for leaving so abruptly. Just needed some... air," George cringed at his blatant lie, hoping Dream would spare him and not question it further. "Is food ready yet?"  
  
Dream laughed, the sound fond and happy.  
  
 _Happy._ George didn't know why the thought of Dream being happy made him so happy in return.  
  
"Yeah, it is. How hungry _are_ you? Does Georgie need a snack?"  
  
  
George scoffed playfully, gently shoving past Dream to get inside, sighing when his stomach grumbled the second he caught a whiff of the nearby food. "Shut up. Come on, I know you're hungry too,"  
  
  


* * *

  
The two ate quietly and peacefully, occasionally taking their turn sneaking a bite of food to the Dog beneath the table, bickering and conversing between moments of silence. George's heart felt warm and fuzzy the entire time, and he decided that he never wanted to forget that feeling.  
  
  
"So," Dream broke the silence just as the two finished their meals, tapping his finger on the wood of the table. "Have you figured out what we should name the dog yet? She's gotta have a name." He ruffled her fur as he spoke, grinning at the sight of her tail wagging rapidly.  
  
George hummed in thought, resting his cheek in the palm of his hand. His glasses slid down his nose, but he couldn't be bothered to adjust them. He failed to notice Dream staring hopelessly into his eyes from behind his mask.  
  
"I mean... I don't know. We've just been calling her Dog. So... Dog." He paused, realizing how ridiculous he sounded, "I can't think of anything else to call her, so Dog just seems like the best option, I mean she _is_ a dog-"  
  
George was interrupted by Dream suddenly bursting into laughter, his eyes widening in surprise as he watched the male clutch his stomach while wheezing, leaned over the table.  
  
"H-HAH! _GEORGE!_ NO- We are _NOT_ naming her _DOG!"_ Dream wheezed, slamming his fist against the table. George wasn't sure what he found so hilarious about it, but he couldn't resist chuckling in return. Dream's laugh was extremely contagious.   
  
"Why not?" George scoffed playfully, leaning across the table to nudge Dream's shoulder, "Quit wheezing, you're gonna fucking pass _out,"_   
  
Dream only wheezed harder at George's sudden usage of a curse word, and the Brit was convinced his friend was going to fall out of his chair soon, with how limp he was getting.   
  


* * *

  
Their bickering over the dog's name lasted an hour and a half longer, before they mutually agreed to leave it as "Dog" until they- _if_ they- figured out something better.   
  
George yawned, stretching out on the couch where he'd been resting for a few minutes, awaiting Dream's return. His friend had gone to retrieve supplies from the village, as well as mine some extra coal for future meals. While he was absent, though, George was left unsure of what to do, and bored. Even with Dog around, he felt... lonely, without the blond's company.  
  
 ~~God, he really was in deep.~~  
  
Huffing, George ran a hand through his hair, ignoring how uncomfortable his current position was. "What is taking him so long?" Despite his slight annoyance and extreme boredom, he couldn't help being worried. What if something had happened? Another raid? A surprise attack? What if-  
  
  
"Georgie!" _Speak of the devil, and he shall appear._ "I'm back!"   
  
The door rattled with Dream's return, and George quickly sat up, his head spinning as blood rushed upwards. He rubbed his eyes and held back a yawn, blinking tiredly as his friend approached the couch, supplies held securely in his arms.   
  
"Hey, sleeping beauty," Dream teased, and George glared at him, somehow able to sense his smile from behind his mask, "Sorry I took so long. Ran into a lot of creepers and skeletons," He placed the supplies onto the table in front of the couch, groaning as he stretched his tense muscles.   
  
"It's fine," George replied, and wondered how Dream was so brave. Brave enough to go into caves by himself, defeat countless mobs without breaking a sweat. George both admired and hated him for it.  
  
  
"Hope you weren't too bored while I was gone." Dream said, resting his hand on his hip. He ran his other hand through his hair, tousling the strands, and George wished it were his hand instead. "...How's your shoulder, by the way?"  
  
"I was _extremely_ bored, but I won't kill you just yet." George laughed, trying to hide the overwhelming fondness seeping into his voice. He rolled his shoulder at the question, wincing as pain shot through the area. "Nngh... not great, but it's not horrible. Don't worry." George tried to reassure his friend once he saw him immediately move to assist, when George showed even the slightest bit of pain.   
  
Dream didn't seem entirely convinced, but he nodded, pulling the hood of his cloak down to reveal his wind-blown, tousled hair. "If you say so. But- let me know if it gets worse, okay?"  
  
George nodded, his cheeks tinted pink, though he tried his best to will the blush away. He couldn't ignore the warmth in his heart, from those simple words of concern. "I will. Thanks, Dream."  
  
Dream smiled at him, his mask lifted just enough for George to view it fully.   
  
He never wanted to forget that smile.   
  


* * *

  
  
The pair spent the next four hours relaxing inside of ~~their~~ Dream's home, chatting, playing with Dog, or just plain sitting in silence. Comfortable silence, but silence nonetheless. Four hours was the stopping point, for George.   
  
"Okay, that's it-" George said abruptly, shooting up from his spot on the couch. Dream watched him with a raised eyebrow. "I can't just sit around anymore. There's gotta be something else we can do, right?" He glanced to the window, eyeing the slowly setting sun. The day had flown by.  
  
Dream hummed, and the low tone sent shivers up George's spine. He hated it. Absolutely hated it.   
  
  
"I mean, yeah. I just don't want you to overexert yourself, with your shoulder and all." Dream tapped his pointer finger against his chin as he thought, ignoring George's whine of impatience. "We _couuuuld..._ Bake a cake? Play fetch with Dog? Go swimming in the river? Uhh..." He trailed off, struggling to come up with any more options.   
  
George considered each option carefully, quickly deciding on his favorite.   
  
"A swim would be nice. The water might help soothe my shoulder pain, who knows." Dream perked up at the words, nodding along in agreement. One word from George, and he was set.   
  
"Alright. It'd be good for you anyway, you've been stinky lately. Stinky George, _ewwww,_ stinky, get away from me." Dream teasingly shoved George to the side, sprinting towards the door. Dog followed behind, wagging her tail in excitement as George got to his feet, glaring angrily at his friend. "Shut _up,_ oh my god. You're actually so annoying."   
  
Dream only snickered in response, rushing out the door as George ran angrily after him, arms outstretched in hopes of grasping his friend's cloak.  
  
"How are you so fucking _fast?!"  
  
"hA-HA!"  
  
_

  
  
The trip down to the river had taken two minutes at most, but Dream had forgotten to bring extra clothes, so he ran back, leaving George in silence with Dog once again.   
  
He'd taken off his shoes moments prior, and was now resting near the edge of the river, dipping his feet into the water below. He sighed at the cool chill of the water soaking his skin, a much needed relief from the hot, humid day.   
  
"Dog, do you like swimming?" George asked, scratching gently behind the fluffy canine's ear. She licked his hand happily in response, but he received nothing else. Obviously, she was a dog.  
  
Sighing, George let himself fall backwards until his back was flat against the grassy ground, leaving him to stare up at the trees. While they provided much needed and appreciated shade, they also attracted bugs and birds, which wasn't ideal when you were trying to relax. He waved yet another bug away from his face with a groan, rolling his eyes.  
  
"Is everything out to get me today?" He huffed, staring lazily up at the darkening sky. Days always seemed to last for eternities back when he'd traveled alone, but each day with Dream flew by in what felt like mere seconds. The saying 'time flies when you're having fun' seemed to fit quite well when he was around Dream.  
  
He let his thoughts drift off, let them center around _Dream_ for once. He let himself fantasize about the other's smile, his laugh, his comforting tone when George was injured or worried. Though his cheeks were pink and his heart was pounding, nobody was around to notice, so he let his mind continue. It wasn't weird to have these thoughts about your friend, right? He just admired Dream a lot, that was all, really. Nothing else.  
  
  
They were just friends, even if George wondered what the other's lips might feel like against his own.  
  
  
Shocked, George quickly pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind, his face red and heated. He groaned in annoyance, sitting up so fast his head began to spin, and frantically splashed water in his face.   
  
"What am I doing?" He mumbled, staring down at his reflection, which stared back with judgement and disgust. He shouldn't be having such thoughts about his friend, much less a friend who was out of his league, anyway.  
  
  
Sighing, George decided to distract himself by removing his glasses and setting them beside his shoes, before slowly picking nearby flowers and threading their stems together to form a small flower bracelet. He smiled, proud of his work, even if it was flimsy and flawed.   
  
Maybe he could give it to Dream.  
  
  
"George!"  
  
Ah, again- speak of the devil.  
  
George glanced up in surprise to see Dream rushing back towards the river, clothing held securely in his arms. He skidded to a stop next to him, tossing the new clothes to the side with a huff. "Jeez, I didn't mean to take so long- sorry. Got a little distracted." He chuckled, before plopping down beside George and wrapping an arm around his shoulder, earning him an elbow to the side from the Brit.   
  
"Ow!"  
  
"I'm not your armrest! Off!" George huffed, though he really wanted Dream to hold him closer. He'd never admit it.   
  
Dream wheezed, ruffling George's hair before complying, a grin slightly visible from behind his mask.   
  
"...Hey, uh," George spoke after a moment of silence, causing Dream to pause while he was slipping off his iron boots, a curious expression on his face. "Are you.. gonna take off your mask, while we swim?"  
  
George was met with a blank stare from said mask, and an uncomfortable silence that made him suddenly regret asking. Maybe it was a sensitive subject?   
  
"Oh, uh-" Dream finally spoke, clearing his throat and tossing his boots to the side, "No. Probably not. I'd rather not. Sorry, Georgie, ya don't get to see my handsome face just yet." He joked, but George could tell by the tone of his voice that he wasn't his normal self after that question.   
  
George merely nodded in response, sitting in silence as the two dipped their toes into the cold water below.   
  
  
The silence lasted approximately two minutes before Dream snapped back to his usual self and shot up from his spot, chuckling with a tone that made George suspicious. George narrowed his eyes at the male, watching as he loomed over him, scaring George more than he'd thought possible from someone so comforting. "Dream, what-"  
  
Dream didn't even bother to remove his shirt, merely tossing his cloak to the side before he leaped at George, sending the two of them tumbling into the river, a large splash announcing their fall. Dog barked in surprise, standing and tilting her head at the bubbles in the water.  
  
George sputtered as he resurfaced, wiping water off of his face and spitting grass out of his mouth, _"DREAM!"_ He shrieked, brown eyes scanning the water for any sight of the _idiot._   
  
Said _idiot_ resurfaced a moment after George, cackling and wheezing like he was about to die. And he might as well have been, since George was ready to murder him. He swam towards the taller male, shoving at his chest, "You soaked my clothes! That was so unnecessary!"  
  
"I'm sorry, I'm s-sorry!" Dream wheezed like a deflating balloon, clutching helplessly at his stomach. George scoffed, finally accepting his fate and enjoying the water, despite the uncomfortable feeling of his shirt clinging wetly to his skin.   
  
He barely had a moment of peace before Dream sent him into surprise once again, this time by removing his shirt with no warning whatsoever in advance, leaving him red-faced and shocked. Dream didn't seem to notice his surprise as he threw his sopping wet shirt onto the grass above, unbothered by it all.   
  
Despite how much George wanted to cover his eyes and shriek, look away and scream, he found himself staring, unable to move his eyes. The sight of water cascading slowly down Dream's (defined, might George add) chest, skin glistening in the moonlight-  
  
Finally, he managed to look the other way, coughing into his hand as his mind raced and his heart pounded.  
  
 _What the fuck was that?  
  
_  
"Hey, you okay?" Dream asked, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, and George screamed internally because _why did he have to be so caring?  
  
_  
"Ye-Yeah, yeah, don't worry," George tried to reassure him, "Just- why did you take off your, um, shirt?" He stumbled over his words, unable to look at his friend- his eyes just kept drifting down.  
  
Dream tilted his head, before mumbling an 'oh' under his breath. His shoulders slouched and George felt guilty, reaching a hand out, but Dream backed away before he could do anything.   
  
"Ah, sorry. I wasn't thinking. I'll, uh... I can put it back on?" He began to reach for his soaked shirt, but George stopped him by swimming in front of him and placing a hand on his shoulder (oh god why did he touch his shoulder oh my god his chest-).  
  
"No, it's- it's fine- you're fine. Don't worry about it." George cursed his overwhelmingly obvious blush, wishing he could sink to the bottom of the river forever, never to be seen again. At least it'd save him from his embarrassment.   
  
Dream didn't seem entirely convinced, but he nodded, and the two stood in silence for a few moments, only accompanied by the rushing water. George stared up at the crudely drawn smile of Dream's mask, wishing he could stare at Dream's _real_ face instead. He wanted to see what color his eyes were, he wanted to memorize the shape of his nose and the patterns of his freckles (how did he know he had freckles?), he wanted to hold his cheeks while leaning in and-  
  
"Gah!" George's thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a nearby splash, water flung in every direction, only further soaking the pair. Dream wheezed while George huffed, glancing down to see Dog paddling happily towards them. He sighed, patting her on the head when she finally reached him, her wagging tail creating ripples in the water. At least she'd shaken him from his thoughts.   
  
Yet another splash was sent George's way, barely even a second later, and he shrieked as it hit him directly in the face. "DREAM!"   
  
The blond wheezed and began to swim away, fighting the current- he was surprisingly good at it, though George wasn't _too_ surprised. He'd seen his muscles.  
  
...God, these thoughts were really becoming increasingly less platonic every second, huh? Shit.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
The two had stayed out for at least two hours more, relaxing by the side of the river, counting stars and talking beneath moonlight. Dog rested peacefully beside them, her tail flopping occasionally, fur tousled by the slight breeze.   
  
George couldn't help but stare at the male beside him, his mask illuminated by moonlight, features glowing beautifully. He yearned to remove the barrier between him and Dream's true face, but he knew the time wasn't right just yet.  
  
Their hands inched closer as they spoke quietly, careful not to disturb the slumbering canine beside them.   
  
  
It was when Dream laughed at one of George's jokes, a long, drawn-out wheeze, hunched over and trembling with the force of the laughter- that he finally realized just what he was feeling.  
  
  
And he knew he was absolutely _fucked._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dream: laughs at george's joke
> 
> george: ,,,oh. i am gay
> 
> /j
> 
> THANK YOU FOR READING <3 again i am so sorry this chapter took so long


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